


The Names of the Voyagers

by BlackandBlueMagpie



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Basically, Death, Gen, Injury, Other, Pirates, Warning for, mentions of - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 00:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2449136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackandBlueMagpie/pseuds/BlackandBlueMagpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys arm shakes as it holds the sword toward him, stance taught and ready. Jean-Pierre cocks his head to one side with an amused smile.</p><p>“I won’t let you have them.” The boy repeats, louder this time.</p><p>“Have what? Those pieces of paper behind you? Why would I want those?” The boy stops short, the room is filled with various pieces of nautical equipment, fine china, chests filled with God know what else. That papers would have been a cursory glance at best.</p><p>“They’re important. I won’t-“ He repeats and Jean-Pierre rolls his eyes.</p><p>“I get it. Come on make this easier for the both of us and come with me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Names of the Voyagers

**Author's Note:**

> A little while ago I posted this: http://eternity-beckons.deviantart.com/art/Les-Pirates-de-l-ABC-452041003 and have been working on a few scenes with them ever since. This probably won't every be a full story, more various vignettes and the like but we'll see :)  
> There are first names in this, listed within the picture link but the basic ones are Marcel is Courfeyrac, and Jean-Pierre is Bossuet.

The boys arm shakes as it holds the sword toward him, stance taught and ready. Jean-Pierre cocks his head to one side with an amused smile.  
“I won’t let you have them.” The boy repeats, louder this time.  
“Have what? Those pieces of paper behind you? Why would I want those?” The boy stops short, the room is filled with various pieces of nautical equipment, fine china, chests filled with God know what else. That papers would have been a cursory glance at best.  
“They’re important. I won’t-“ He repeats and Jean-Pierre rolls his eyes.  
“I get it. Come on make this easier for the both of us and come with me.”  
“But-“  
“If it make you feel better they can go to the bottom of the sea.” A lazy grin spreads across Jean-Pierre’s face, he doesn’t add the ‘with you’, he doesn’t need to, the boy reads it in his face. “Now pick them up.”  
There’s a pause as the boy stares him down, backed as he is against the table. Then slowly he reaches behind him to gather them up.  
“There we go. Now drop your sword.”  
“No.”  
“You can have it your way, but you’ll get stabbed.” He takes a step forward, so his sword is almost against the others chest. “Drop it.” There’s a clatter of metal, and a rustle of paper. “Good boy. Now go out that door and onto deck.” The boy takes a small step to the side, pausing in the centre of the room with the papers clutched to his chest. “I’ll be right behind you.”  
The deck runs red, and the boy stops short at the steps, wide eyed. Jean-Pierre’s impressed that he doesn’t drop the papers as Marcel sweeps in from the side to pull him in, arm looped around his shoulders.  
“Who’s this then L’Aigle?”  
“Don’t know, found him back there very intent on protecting some useless paper. But he saw my way eventually.” Marcel runs his thumb over the boys’ cheek, garnering a flinch. He smirks.  
“What’s yer name?”  
“M-Marius. Pontmercy.”  
“Marius, what’s so precious about these?”  
“I can’t say.” Marcel’s knife presses against his throat and he takes a sharp intake of breath.  
“How about now.”  
“I still can’t say.” Marius tells him, staring straight ahead at the corpse of his Captain.  
“I like this kid, he has guts.” Marcel shoves him forward, onto his knees, as Apollinaire makes his way across the deck, observing the scenes around him. “Look what L’Aigle dragged up.”  
Apollinaire approaches, crouching in front of Marius. He’s a tall man, slender, his red coat and long dark braids set him apart even from a distance, his looks and commanding presence do as much up close, and Marius all but shrinks back.  
“What are you showing me this snivelling kid?”  
“Got guts.” Marcel leans over behind him. “Won’t tell me what he’s holding even as he quakes.”  
“Apo-Apollinaire? The Apollinaire?” Marius says suddenly. Apollinaire raises an eyebrow with an amused smile.  
“The Apollinaire. What were you expecting? All pretty? Blond and blue eyed yes? White as snow. They do love spinning a yarn.” There’s only one part of Apollinaire’s description that fits him, the angelic beauty that granted him his name. His features are fine, his jaw sharp, lips full and shaped. It’s a feminine face that masks a strong, powerful will.  
Marius goes silent.  
“We have no use for him. He can follow his papers into the sea.” He pushes himself up with a finality, almost sombre in his judgement.  
“I won’t let you.” Marcel tells him as he stands, placing a hand on his shoulder. Apollinaire turns his head.  
“You won’t let me?”  
“No. You can’t over rule me Enjolras we have the same amount of power. That’s what we agreed.” Apollinaire stares him down a moment, looking over him with dark eyes.  
“If he refuses to give up his loyalty, and becomes a danger, I will not hesitate to run him through with my sword. That’ll be your problem then. Understood?”  
“Of course.” Marcel’s look is almost defiant. Apollinaire turns on his heel, shoes clicking against the wooden deck as he walks away.  
“If he’s yours I’ll be leaving you to go dig around in the Captain’s quarters some more.” Jean-Pierre tells him, patting him on the shoulder.  
Marcel lets out a defeated sigh, looking down at the boy near his feet.  
“Get up.” Marius does so, and Marcel looks him over. They’re about the same height, but Marius is gangly, like he never quite filled out properly. His hair is long, mostly coming out of its ponytail, and covering over his freckled face. “You better not make trouble for me kid or there’ll be two swords coming at you.” There’s a hasty nod. “Chuck the documents.” A pause, Marius glances up, opening his mouth as if to say something. “No one here’s gonna need them.” He gives Marius a gentle shove toward the edge of the ship. The way Marius stares at the water is as if he might jump himself, but after a moment he holds out his arms and allows the papers to fall slowly toward the waves, watching as they flutter down and disperse between the two ships. “There, not so hard.” Marcel grins, slinging his arm around Marius’s shoulders.

~~~

“Hey Marcel, what’s this.” Jehan asks as she approaches the mast, where they’ve bound Marius, who’s anxiously glancing around at the crew as they move around him, lugging boxes and barrels around. Alain’s trying to get Honoré-Étienne to sit still long enough for him to actually look at the wound in his shoulder. Anne-Laure’s perched herself up on the crow’s nest, observing the horizons around them.  
“Got myself a prisoner.” Marcel grins, leaning back against the wood. Jehan leans down to examine him, bright red hair flowing about her shoulders. Marius keeps his eyes fixed on a point off to the side.  
“Look at me.” Marius does so, sharply glancing up. There’s a moment of shock that flickers over his face, and Marcel watches in amusement as he watches the scene play out in front of him.  
“A-A woman!”  
“Yes?” Jehan raises an eyebrow dangerously, hand hovering over her sword.  
“But it’s bad luck to have a woman on board-“ In a flash there’s steel against his throat, his head knocking back against the mast.  
“I’ll show you bad luck.” Jehan growls. Marcel reaches across hastily to place a hand on hers.  
“You’re not allowed to kill him, he’s mine.” Jehan smiles sweetly for a moment, lowering her sword slightly. Then she draws it slowly and deliberately across Marius’s chest. Marius yelps in pain. “Hey, hey!”  
“I didn’t kill him.” Jehan says simply, with a smirk, before turning on her heel and walking back down the deck. Marcel watches her go, shaking his head in amusement.  
“She’s lucky she didn’t.”  
“L-Lucky…” Marius stammers.  
“It’s a scratch, you must’ve had worse. Hey! Joly! Once you’ve finished up with Grantaire can you come make sure this guy doesn’t faint?” Alain glances up through his reddish brown hair, momentarily distracted. Grantaire gives him a pat on the shoulder before slipping away to the other end of the ship, where Jean-Pierre’s digging through a chest.  
“Next time wait until I’m finished with one of my most notorious patients.” Alain tells him, wiping his hands on his apron. “This Marius?”  
“One and only. Jehan got to him.”  
“Oh yeah, she bites. But I hear you like that Courf.” He raises an eyebrow in amusement, crouching awkwardly to examine the cut on Marius’s chest. “I’ll get some bandages and vinegar.” Marcel was still blinking at him, as if to ask what he was insinuating, by the time he’d pushed himself back up and vanished into the back of the ship.  
“Vinegar..?” Marius asked.  
“I’d trust him, he trained as a doctor. Doesn’t always do things you’d expect but most of his experiments turn out alright.”  
“That’s… Great…” Marcel grinned widely.  
“Might sting a bit though.” 

~~~

“Here.” Jehan slides the plate across to Marius, before perching on a trunk.  
“Are you going to stab me again?” Marius asks, not quite cautiously, there’s more of a sardonic tone to his voice. Jehan’s lips turn up at the corners.  
“No. I just needed to teach you a lesson. Eat your food.” Marius draws the plate to him, tearing a piece of bread apart. “Do you know how many kids like you I’ve had say that to me?” She doesn’t allow time for an answer, Marius trying to chew through the lump. “I was born on the sea Marius, I’ll die on the sea. And I don’t need people like you acting like I’m a bad omen who’s going to ruin it for the rest of you. The sea isn’t just for you men, not matter how much you want it to be, and you’re not going to get in my way.”  
“You were born at sea?”  
“Born in a summer storm.” Jehan grins for a moment, then sighs. “My mother didn’t make it, otherwise I would probably never have been the unlucky charm to everyone. My father’s ship was taken when I was 11, from there I ended up passing from place to place, until Apollinaire came along looking for a new crew. No-one here cares, it’s nice. I’m not letting you get in the way of that, so you’ll have to get used to the idea. Besides, the navigator’s a woman too and if you get on her wrong side Apollinaire’s not gonna be happy with you. Fair warning.”  
“My Grandfather was very superstitious, I guess I picked it up from him.” Marius stares down at the lump of bread between his fingers.  
Jehan sighed, pulling her leg up onto the trunk.  
“What were you doing on a Navy boat anyway?”  
“My father was in the Navy, Grandfather hated it. Didn’t tell me a thing about him until I found out for myself. I really admired what I found out though, so I decided to join up. Haven’t seen Grandfather since, he refused to let me stay in the house.”  
“The sea can be your home now. I find it’s much kinder than any land based one you can find.”  
“Well, this is nicer than my poxy little room back in France…” Marius manages a small smile, gazing about the cramped store cupboard serving as a cell. Jehan throws her head back in a laugh after a moment.  
“Your home must be pretty terrible then.”  
“You have no idea…” There’s a moment of silence, before Jehan pushes herself up skirt swishing about her.  
“You’re alright kid. Just got to get that royal chip off your shoulder.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also going to take this opportunity to point you toward my writing blog: http://chatteringbluemagpie.tumblr.com/  
> Where I do prompts, respond to questions and the like :)


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